I don't make attachment's easy
though you say "that'll change with time"
I'm telling you man, you don't know me
or are you ready-to prove me wrong?
I can't spit up my pride- there ain't more
than meets the eye to me, this sterile way of mine
when they fall into my arms, faithful,
for the healing medicine's grasping pull
Can't ever spit up my pride- always drowning in it
there for the better- even if you don't understand
To keep a medicinal
attachment before they try to...
I don't get attatched
I just cut strings and cut ties too
'fore they try to string me too
and tie me in their web of sickness and faith
Try and string me, tie me up
from the inside-out
this is a medicinal-attachment-love.
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